


32 Years

by PerpetuallyJohnlocked



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Cancer, Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetuallyJohnlocked/pseuds/PerpetuallyJohnlocked
Summary: He spent six years with her and twenty-six without her. Major character deaths.
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart)
Kudos: 9





	32 Years

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on Tumblr a while back. Major deaths ahead. Proceed with caution!
> 
> I don’t write in present tense often, but it worked well for this one, I think.

Ethan’s afraid to sleep.

He knows the inevitable is fast approaching. Despite the months of trying to stop something he knew he couldn’t stop, the inevitable is here and it reminds him that he can’t save the people he cares about.

Maybe it’s selfish to blame himself when the truth says that her illness would have been a death sentence for anyone, but he refuses to accept that there isn’t some answer out there that he failed to find. 

It’s been at least a day since he rested, but he can’t sleep. The thought of being asleep when she slips away is enough to make his throat clench with fear. 

He doesn’t leave her side for more than a couple of minutes. Even then, it’s only when he absolutely has to. She needs him right now. 

And if he’s honest, he needs to cling onto whatever time they have left.

A sharp gasp interrupts her sporadic, shallow breathing. It’s enough to make Ethan jolt upright and lean over her, trying to keep the panic out of his eyes. 

Moments pass before Olivia’s eyes open to meet his. Her eyelids flutter open weakly, revealing glassy irises. “Ethan?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Ethan swallows hard, smoothing his hand over her hair, worn thin from the months of chemo. 

It takes several seconds for him to come into her sight. She blinks a few times, uselessly trying to focus her vision. “I… I think it’s... happening.”

The words stumble from her mouth in a weak slur, but Ethan understands them. More than that, he hears what she isn’t saying.

Ethan swallows the hard lump in his throat. He leans back against the headboard and wraps his arms around her emaciated frame. Tears pool in his eyes as he cradles her to his chest.

Her breathing shallows. Olivia’s head rests against his chest. She hears his heart beating against her ear, the sound steady and soothing. As she tries to focus on the sound, her mind drifts to six months ago.

She never saw the diagnosis coming.

As a doctor, she should have remembered that anything was possible. Even the smallest of chances happened for some people, and being a doctor didn’t exempt her from reality.

Still, the words  _ pancreatic cancer  _ pulled the rug from beneath her feet the morning she received her diagnosis.

The odds didn’t stop her from trying. Maybe she clung to false hope thinking that some unheard of miracle would happen. Olivia should have known that the illness alone was something she couldn’t defeat, but she didn’t stop treatment until it metastasized to her brain, confirming that she was only delaying the inevitable.

She had a son to think of. He didn’t need to lose his mom when he was still in diapers. The thought gave her the willpower she needed to try to fight, to hope for a miracle, but hope couldn’t fix everything.

Jonah’s with Sienna. He’s two. He’s too young to know what’s going on. Her heart wrenches painfully knowing that he’ll grow up not remembering her, but she knows Ethan will give him the love he needs.

She wants to think he’ll find love again. Ethan deserves that much. It’s wishful thinking, because she knows he won’t open his heart again. All she can do is accept his promise to try to find happiness, even if that doesn’t mean moving on.

A gentle hand caressing her cheek brings her back to reality. She expected pain, having grown used to the long nights of trembling, cold sweat clinging to her body as she tried to fight the pains that would start deep in her bones and send tremors through her body.

All of that leaves her. She doesn’t feel pain. Her body feels numb, her head heavy. Darkness swims in the corners of her vision. She fights it because she knows that once she closes her eyes, they won’t open again.

“I… I love you…” she rasps feebly. She feels the tremor that shakes Ethan’s body as he whispers his response.

“I love you, too.”

A final breath escapes her leaves as her heart slows to a stop, taking a piece of Ethan’s with it.   


For a long moment, he freezes as his world stops turning. The emotions hit him like a tide and he breaks down, crying and cursing a god he doesn’t believe in for letting her die.

He’s not sure how much time passes before he makes the call,, but he knows it must be a while. By the time his trembling fingers dial the number, his eyes are dry and swollen.

His eyes glaze over when the medics cover her body with a white sheet and carry her away. Even if he knows it’s fruitless, he squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to wake up from a nightmare that he knows is reality.

Sienna’s his next call. The phone rings once before she picks up, her voice soft and shaky with understanding. She doesn’t need to ask him what he needs, because she  _ knows. _

She arrives twenty minutes later. Jonah is asleep in her arms, peacefully oblivious to what’s happening. Ethan knows he’ll realize that his mom is gone soon enough, but he isn’t ready to think about how he’ll address that.

He takes his son into his arms and hugs him tight. Even in sleep, Jonah lets out a little sigh and snuggles into him. Ethan inhales sharply, feeling his eyes burn with the threat of new tears.

He buries his face in Jonah’s soft hair, taking comfort in his warm embrace. After a while, he carries his son to his room and tucks him into his crib. Jonah wrinkles his face, but remains peacefully asleep. Ethan presses a soft kiss to his forehead before he leaves the room.

Sienna’s in the living room, her face worn with sleeplessness. She’s already shared her goodbyes, but Ethan knows she’s been awake with worry since then. Time stands still for a long second as they stand in his living room, the only sound being that of the rain drumming against his window.

She opens her arms to him and Ethan feels the walls break again. He stumbles into them. Sobs wrack both their bodies as they cling to each other. Time slips away from them as they break down. 

Neither of them knows that they made the same promise, to look out for the other. They’ve become friends over the years and especially in the last six months. They’ve both lost the most important person in their lives, but they can’t give up.

They have promises to keep.

* * *

Sometimes Jonah asks for his mom.

He’s too little to understand cancer and death. All he knows is he can’t find his mom, and that makes Ethan’s heart clench a little every time he hears the word  _ mama  _ leave his son’s mouth.

He’s the only reason Ethan has not to drink himself into oblivion every night. Jonah is counting on him to stay strong. 

The first week after Olivia’s funeral, Ethan feels numb. He isn’t sure what to do when Jonah’s eyes search the apartment for signs of his mother. He’ll talk to him when he’s older, but all he can do now is try to cope with the present.

One night, it rains. Ethan remembers that she would have pointed out how fitting it was for the occasion, and it’s enough to make his emotions swallow the numbness. 

He breaks down again. 

Ethan has already vowed that he won’t love again. He can’t… he  _ won’t _ let someone into his heart again. He promised Olivia and himself he’d take care of their son.    


That’s a promise he won’t break.

Jonah deserves the best life he can have, and Ethan isn’t going to let himself fail. He may have failed to save her, but he won’t fail his son. 

As the days slip into weeks, Ethan tries to slip back into a routine. 

He goes back to work, but nothing feels the same. When he walks into the diagnostics office, his eyes avoid the vacant chair at the table.

There’s a mug with her lipstick prints in his desk drawer. Ethan keeps that drawer locked, because he might break down again if someone were to touch or clean the one thing left of her in the office.

He takes cases, solving them as he always has. Even the biggest victories don’t bring that sense of accomplishment he used to thrive from. It’s all a distraction now, an attempt to keep his focus on something other than loss and heartache.

Once a week, he meets Sienna on their lunch break. Sometimes, they get coffee. Other times, they go to the hospital roof. More often than not, they spend most of the thirty minutes in silence.

It’s a comfort having someone to sit with, even if they don’t talk. They both know that when they try to talk, they can’t stop the tears from forming. Months pass before they’re able to share stories, but even when they’re able to smile, there’s a sadness to it.

Ethan stops finding reasons to stay beyond his shift. He has Jonah to take care of. The second Ethan’s shift is over, he goes home. 

Work can wait.

* * *

Jonah is twenty-six and graduating at the top of his class from Hopkins.

It’s a little surreal sitting in the audience on a brilliant May morning, watching his son line up to receive his diploma. 

Even if his heart aches a little when he realizes how fast time soared past him, all he feels this morning is pride and happiness. 

Ethan has always let Jonah know that he can do anything he wants with his career. He doesn’t have to become a doctor just because his parents were. 

Jonah follows their footsteps, anyway. He attends their alma mater, graduating with the highest honors in both undergrad and med school. 

“Jonah Ramsey.”

The college president reads off his name, followed by his degree and honors. Nothing can stop the grin from forming on Ethan’s face as he watches his son cross the stage to accept his diploma.

At the end of the ceremony, Jonah makes his way through the crowd to meet him. He grins, his smile mirroring Ethan’s. He has his mom’s eyes, though, and they twinkle with the same mischief hers always did.

“Hey, Dad.” Jonah tucks his diploma under one arm and slings the other around his father. Ethan hugs him tight, knowing that if Olivia were here, she would be just as happy as he is.

He couldn’t be more proud.

* * *

Jonah’s halfway through his residency. 

Unlike his parents, he isn’t specializing in internal medicine. Instead, he’s focusing on oncology. He doesn’t remember his mom’s sickness, but he knows the stories his dad has told him over the years.

If there’s an answer out there, Jonah wants to find it.

He starts his residency in New York, but he moves to Edenbrook when he notices his dad’s health declining. 

It’s three in the morning when he gets the phone call.

Ethan’s in the hospital, and it isn’t looking good. Jonah doesn’t remember much between the phone call and arriving at the hospital. This is his dad’s second heart attack in six months, worse than the first.

Jonah makes his way through the quiet halls of the hospital. He finds his dad’s room and takes a moment to compose himself before he goes inside. He knows what to expect, but something about seeing his father in a hospital bed doesn’t sit right with him.

A doctor talks to him. She’s not much older than Jonah. The doctors Jonah knew growing up have moved on, most of them having retired. The cardiologist tells Jonah that the damage to Ethan’s heart is extensive.

She doesn’t tell Jonah that this is the end, but she doesn’t need to. Jonah remembers the DNR Ethan signed after his first heart attack and dismisses her, wanting to spend these moments alone with his father.

Jonah’s eyes water as he takes Ethan’s hand into his own. “Dad?”

He holds his breath as he waits for a response. Ethan’s eyelids flutter, struggling. After a moment, he opens his eyes and blinks groggily. A wince crosses his features. His focus turns to his son.

Jonah manages a watery smile. “You know I don’t like getting up early,” he tries to joke, but his voice falls flat. 

Ethan chuckles lowly, the sound faint. All he remembers is the suffocating pain in his chest moments before darkness took him. He’s surprised he’s even awake now. The last heart attack was serious enough, so he knows this one robbed him of the function that was left.

“I don’t think…” his voice trails off, fading into a weak cough. “I’ll be getting out of here this time.”

Jonah nods slightly, blinking back tears. His grip tightens on Ethan’s hand. A moment later, Ethan’s fingers curl loosely around his. For a moment, Jonah falls silent. He isn’t sure what the right words to say are, or if they even exist.

Finally, he speaks, his voice soft. “It’s okay, Dad. Don’t be afraid to let go.”

Ethan’s voice betrays him when he tries to speak. His chest rises and falls weakly with shallow breaths. He isn’t afraid, not now. He can’t stop the instinctual rise of worry for his son, but something tells him Jonah will be alright. He’ll grieve, but he’ll do great things. That much Ethan doesn’t doubt for a moment.

“I know you don’t believe in the afterlife, but you know something? I’m pretty sure Mom’s waiting for you somewhere. And based on everything you always told me, I know she’s gonna fuss at you for this, but she’ll be glad to see you.”

Jonah doesn’t think about what he’s saying. He just talks, his voice low and comforting. He remembers the occasional sleepless night from his childhood, listening to his father talk about anything that came to mind. Jonah never really cared what he talked about as long as he got to take comfort in the familiar voice.

The ghost of a smile pulls at Ethan’s lips. His son’s voice drifts in and out, but it’s a welcome sound that Ethan wants to hear more than anything.

He’s ready. He spent six years with her and twenty-six without her. Ethan knows he probably wouldn’t have made it this far without his son. Even if the pain never fully went away, he kept his promise by finding happiness in seeing his son grow up to be the success Ethan knew he would be.

When the heart monitor next to his bed lets out a beep to indicate the drop in his blood pressure, Jonah tightens his grip on Ethan’s hand. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too…” The words leave his mouth almost inaudibly, just loud enough for Jonah to hear them. His breathing slows, one final breath leaving his lips. 

Jonah’s vision floods with tears. His heart wrenches painfully as he reaches over to turn off the beeping monitor. He can’t bring himself to leave right now. 

Not yet.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
